Because True Strength Doesn't Necessarily Mean Knowing How to Swim
by girly tomboy
Summary: In which Kagura thinks power is measured by the force of her kicks and the accuracy in her strikes and Sougo proves otherwise.


**Pairing:** Okita Sougo and Kagura

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer:** All rights belong to the genius Sorachi Hideaki.

**A/N:** Yaay, here with another one-shot! I hope you all enjoy, there are further notes at the end.

* * *

Because True Strength Doesn't Necessarily Mean Knowing How to Swim

* * *

Drowning doesn't feel pleasant.

Kagura notes this with an almost carefree demeanor as she slips further and further away. From her comrades, from her simple life as a girl on Earth, from herself. Instead, the rapacious binds tying her down to her Yato fate insistently grip and pull at her, drags her deeper into the myopic chasm of blood lust and violence and utter _insanity_. She feels herself balancing on a near nonexistent rope, fraying at the edges and sinking with the weight of her, and the burden she carries.

She is on the cusp of falling and landing on the dark side of the rope; the binds swallowing her to the point of suffocation make sure of that. Where simple happiness and a fulfilled life with people she _cares _about, _loves _are unattainable. Where power and the intoxicating smell of blood are the only things inundating her for miles around.

She tries her damn hardest to break free, would rather keep teetering precariously on that unstable rope than ever succumb to the side void of smiles and love and trust.

But maybe, a small voice defers, that she has already fallen.

It certainly seems like it, Kagura can't help but think. The unbearable darkness has long since crept into her system, numbs her every nerves as she is trapped within the abysmal miasma of her own thoughts.

Outside, echoes of ragged battle cries and promises of blood and death is heard, and the only barrier against that is her quickly waning subconscious. Kagura sees the bloodshed, the dampened figure of her precious Yorozuya on the ground, the way her own limbs shred through anything and everything.

Yet she doesn't see a light.

Every face, every building, every weapon blends into an amalgamation of bleak gray as she rushes past them, with the occasional streak of crimson invading her line of vision. What she is fighting for, what she is searching for, she can no longer remember.

Kagura can't stop herself.

A flitting chuckle yanks her back to her bleak subconsciousness. Airy, not entirely sane. Her gaze directs to the thin rope beneath her feet, trails along it as her vision is halted by a shadow standing mere meters away from her.

A girl.

With the exact same vermilion hair, the exact same shade of blue irises, the exact same small figure.

But Kagura knows-

That girl is not her.

That girl standing in front of her, with the hair stained red with crimson, the emptily lackluster hue in her eyes, the hunch of her small shoulders as they shake.

The menacing grin on her scarred face. She chuckles.

That girl is not Kagura.

She is a beast. No, a monster.

And this mere fact is enough to make her break.

Kagura releases a bloodcurdling scream, harshly forces her hands to cover her ears, violently wipes her eyes enough to burn, does _anything _to get rid of the girl in front of her.

A girl she knows is not her. Yet at the same time knows is exactly her.

That _thing- _she refuses to call it a person any longer- holds out its hands. It is enough to halt her in her tracks, and she stops and stares at it for a full minute.

Despite the fervent protests and alarm bells ringing, Kagura can't deny that there is a tiny part inside her, a vestige of doubt worming its way deep inside, that is tempted to take the hand.

_'This fight is __useless__. You won't win.' _It sleepily murmurs. She contemplates what this means, but can't for the life of her foresee what taking those slim, calloused fingers in her own will happen.

Kagura hesitates. And it is enough for something to trap her in a vice-like grip.

She tries to scream, yet no voice comes out. It's like her body has come to a jarringly abrupt halt, where every sense melts away into oblivion. She desperately attempts to claw her way out, like a cornered beast with nothing to lose, but still to no avail. Panic lazily encroaches as the plummeting feeling of sinking returns tenfold.

The rope is gone. She is falling.

Kagura can't discern one thing from the next, and tightly shuts her eyes quickly after. Not for fear of the plummet, or in trepidation of which side she will fall on, but to shut out the demons that follow her along the way. She hears a chuckle, muffled and quaint underneath the deafening silence surrounding her. Something grasps her arm.

Kagura looks up, a resigned knowing on her face as she feels the malicious tug of blood lust and power and violence pull her deeper. She looks up, wholly intent on seeing that _thing's _(she will _never_ call it just a girl) maniacal grin, its empty eyes, its gluttonous hunger.

Except, she doesn't.

And suddenly, Kagura is sinking into whatever she has just landed on. It's dark, but this time, there is sound. There is jovial laughter and recognizable faces and bone-crushing hugs. It's dark, but there is warmth.

(She vaguely recalls the comfort in her long passed mother's arms as the older woman combats the dismal cold with soothing words and quiescent lullabies.)

But then Kagura realizes.

Just who's grip does the arm on her belong to?

The clutch on her simultaneously tightens uncomfortably, whereas before was just a subconscious acknowledging on her part. The sheer force of it pulls her down further as a familiar bout of consternation seeps in.

But instead of murky, inky water and the suffocating sensation of drowning, she feels light. Airy, almost. Everything fades into oblivion and the only semblance of the wariness slowly draining out of her is the jagged yanking of being swept along an endless current.

Static. And then, voices.

No, a voice.

_"__Kagura!"_

* * *

Sougo, contrary to popular belief, is not the impassive, completely unfazed man that others (a majority of them his own subordinates) make him out to be. As much acclaim as he has, the First Division Captain of the renown Shinsengumi is in fact, human.

Especially when it comes to an annoying, vermilion-haired girl who is also part of the strongest race in the universe.

Kagura fruitlessly struggles in his grip. He only tightens it.

Just moments ago, Sougo had watched in consternation as she ravaged the battlefield without a care in the world, a stark contrast to her restrained punches and mocking demeanor.

A monster was awoken, that much he knows.

One moment she's yelling obscenities and blowing raspberries at the enemies and the next she's flying down the battlefield in a whirlwind of unadulterated blood and vengeance and _death. _Even whilst immobile like she is, Sougo still finds some difficulty restraining her, using nothing but his bare hands and a desperation he refuses to admit exists.

He recalls the sudden shift in Kagura's demeanor as clear as day, as if it happened mere seconds ago and not minutes prior. The incoherent growls, the mocking giggles, the utter chaos that swept through the wave of relenting Amanto and humans alike.

Sougo absentmindedly compares her to that of a demon; a savage beast with a prowess only few will ever be able to match, even for Yatos' standards.

Which, notwithstanding the guilt that gripes at him, he admits is absolutely breathtaking.

He remembers it being a near inimitable experience watching Kagura, no, the _thing _inside of her dance and whirl its way onto the battlefield, every precise strike thoughtless, every hit deadly. He garners a profound acknowledging of the Yato girl, of the ultimately contrasting persona she has locked deep within the recesses of her. Undeniably, she is strong.

But it is when Kagura shows no sign of stopping, and that very same girl who loves everything soft and fluffy and eats that disgusting sukonbu and jokes and banters around with _him _seems to be drifting further away- that is when Sougo starts to worry.

Especially when she shows no sign of coming back.

Kagura thrashes in his arms again, startling Sougo out of his reverie and reminding him of the trouble he had just to get a hold of her in the first place.

He glances over his shoulder, where Hijikata-Bastard and the rest of the Shinsengumi forces are working, half of them tending to the wounded and the other half arresting their fair share of criminals. He easily discerns the two immobile figures of the Yorozuya Danna and his Glasses-wearing right hand man. Apart from the multitude of bandages wrapping their frames, they were otherwise alright.

Sougo then glances back at Kagura, with his arms wrapped underneath her own in restraint, and wonders if she can feel herself wearing out. He sardonically thinks, _'Of course not.' _ and bitterly chuckles to himself.

He can feel the material of his jacket ripping at the seams from where Kagura continuously claws at it, can feel the way his biceps will undoubtedly sting the next day from her sharp nails, can feel the bruises forming on his jaw from the force of her headbutts.

But Sougo doesn't let go.

Even when Kagura releases a bloodcurdling scream and her once bright blue eyes dilate more than they already are, he refuses to slacken his grip for even the tiniest second-

He wants Kagura back. Not this stranger in her body.

He utters a quiet _'China.' _When she still thrashes about and slams herself against him in an effort to free herself, he murmurs another _'China.'_ Except this time, it's strained, desperate even.

Sougo's words remain unregistered to her, and a lingering consternation sinks deep within his bones.

"Kagura."

"..."

"Kagura."

She doesn't show any sign of responding. Sougo's brows furrow deeply.

"_Kagura._"

Kagura's movements slow the slightest bit. He immediately yanks her closer.

"_Kagura!_"

She stills.

Whether it is the urgency in his tone or the sudden jolt of his movements that stop Kagura, he doesn't care. Sougo feels the blood lust and malicious intent literally drain out of her as her shoulders sink and her eyelids droop. He resists the urge to spin her around to face him, to take a long, scrutinizing look at those brilliant specks of blue that is entirely Kagura in their essence.

Instead, he waits patiently for Kagura's mind to render her body functioning again. She is dazed, he can tell. The only indication she is not frozen stiff is the subtle clenching and releasing of her fists, arms hanging limply by her side. She is shivering, but they both know it isn't from the cold.

Sougo gently releases his arms, grimaces at the sting of his sweat and blood-stained uniform sticks to his cuts and scratches. He hides this from Kagura, however, as he reaches down to gently pry her tiny (yet capable of _so much_) fingers open. There are bloody, crescent-shaped indents from where they dug into her palms.

He sneaks a glance down at Kagura. Her head is hanging low, and the long bangs framing her face mat to her forehead. Vermilion strands act as curtains to shield her away from the rest of the world, but Sougo sees different. He will always be able to make out those almost ethereal pools of cerulean on par with even the brightest of galaxies.

(And the fact that something so pure and innocent and absolutely untainted no matter what circumstances are involved can be taken over and submerged so easily- that scares him a little.)

A shuffling interrupts his train of thought. Kagura looks up, those very same eyes of hers opening as he gets a clear look at them.

There is immense relief in them, a gratefulness Sougo can't fully describe in just words evident in her round irises. But there is also pain. Pain and guilt and a hidden sadness she tries so desperately to belie and cover with ardent, obnoxiously loquacious laughter.

He wants to wipe that look off her face, yet can't deny that the sight is absolutely and utterly besotting.

Kagura murmurs something incoherent, but Sougo's had enough experience to make out the characters that she spells on the tip of her tongue. She then tilts forward the slightest, and in a blink, she is laying limp in his arms.

Alarm washes over him when he notices Kagura's harsh breathing and the blood seeping from her open wounds. But Sougo is quick to assess the situation, and quick to respond. His hands splay across the small of her back as he carefully carries her back to the safety of the Shinsengumi's care. There is a calm urgency in his movements expected of an experienced professional.

Not long after, he is watching the medics bandage her next to her surrogate family, a million things on his mind and none showing on his features. He quickly turns away when they manage to peel off the remnants of her shirt, and goes about trying to find Kondo for his mandatory report. The heavy weight of Kagura's words still ring in his ears.

_"__Thank you."_

* * *

"How is she?"

Hijikata stops inhaling his mayonnaise when he hears the genuine curiosity in Sougo's tone. He glances to the resident doctor, who also raises a brow in response to the First Division Captain's inquiry.

Sougo, proving to live up to his epithet as the impassive man he is (save for his odd obsession with anything BDSM), stares at the hired doctor strangely, as if questioning his intelligence. Hijikata only brushes Sougo off with a small reprimand before nodding at the doctor. He soon returns to slurping his diabetes in a bottle.

"Don't pay this kid any attention, doctor. We're done with our rounds, Sougo. Cause up another shit storm and you'll be committing seppuku," he forewarns, images of burning headquarters and a suspiciously intact bazooka in his head. He walks past the two, ready to bolt in case Sougo decides to whip out his MP3 sword just for shits and giggles.

Hijikata takes a few steps forward, Sougo remains quiet. He stops.

"If you're so worried, why don't you visit her?"

A tense moment passes, in which the poor doctor shifts uncomfortably. Then, Hijikata hears shuffling. Followed by footsteps- quick and light strides against the wooden tiles.

He doesn't even have to look back to know where Sougo is going.

* * *

"I guess he really did visit _only _her..." Hijikata notes. He cautiously pokes an unconscious Gin on the head, and ignores the brown scuff mark that forms on the perm-head's white (precious) hair. He notices the unofficial Yorozuya housewife near him, the rim of his glasses dangling crookedly from the teenager's features.

_'I need to teach this brat some manners,' _Hijikata inwardly mulls, but the amusement at seeing the two officially-dubbed Pain in the Asses is evident in the way he haughtily snickers.

_'Sougo probably tossed them aside without a second thought.__'_

The Demon Vice-Commander chuckles before walking past them, and makes sure to put out his cigarette on the exposed fabric of Gin's white sleeve. He nonchalantly whistles for added measure as he continues on his merry way.

* * *

By the time Sougo manages to haul the Yorozuya Danna and Glasses out of the room, Kagura is sweating profusely in her thin blankets as her fever peaks. The young Captain soon hunkers down besides her and grimaces at the burning heat radiating from her.

He rescinds his hand from where it rests on her forehead, but quickly replaces it with a wet cloth from the idle bucket sitting next to him. Kagura utters a low groan, which escalates into a series of shallow pants and pained whines as she thrashes unceremoniously in her futon.

Sougo doesn't know what to do (dealing with a sick person has never been his area of expertise), and halfheartedly tries to smooth out the creases in her brow and brush the sticky strands of vermilion away. For a second, Kagura seems to calm. Her breathing slows down as he soothingly trails his fingers over her face and neck.

But whatever nightmares that gripe her soon return, and she is suddenly clawing at anything and everything in a futile attempt to escape from her invisible demons.

Sougo has to physically hold her down for the risk of Kagura hurting herself in her subconscious frenzy. Her eyes tightly squeeze together, and he can do nothing but hold her in place. On one hand he wants to wake her up, to yank her away from the imagery and memories of a darkness he knows all too well.

But on the other hand, he loathes to see the confusion and guilt and _shame _that will be written on features that should never bear any of them.

Instead, Sougo resorts to guiding her petite hands to her side, where at least, she doesn't have any purchase to her wounds. He brushes the hair that mats to her forehead away, and she twitches in response.

He doesn't mean to wake her, but when Kagura stirs and groggily blinks her eyes open, he deftly thinks of immersing himself in those cerulean orbs, even for an ephemeral moment.

And then the late-afternoon grogginess turns into a dawning realization, and Sougo for the life of him can't stand to look into those self-loathing depths any further. She slowly hauls herself up, and cringes at the sight of the pristine white of the bandages that wrap her frame.

"S-Sadist... You're here...?" He sees the unasked question of, _"Why?" _on the tip of her tongue and wonders himself. Why is he here?

His moment of doubt ends when he lifts his eyes to Kagura, her fever-induced state, her uncharacteristic fragility, and her lack of insults and jovial bantering. Sougo wants to fix it, whatever "it" was. So he stays.

Kagura doesn't complain (doesn't have the strength to), only meekly nods when Sougo voices a small confirmation. Her injuries are taking their toll on her, he can tell.

(But not as much as the revelation of what she is capable of.)

She looks down at her hands. They clench, unclench, and then clench again. Her voice is low and shaky when she utters a small, "I broke my promise." There is pain and guilt in the simple intonation of her statement, and Sougo internally flinches when he realizes that he is able to relate to her.

However, he knows there is one difference that separates the two of them, that cuts a line right through the rope connecting them-

Sougo no longer discerns the boundary of fighting to protect and fighting to kill.

He, who has already lost his innocence and purity to the manic darkness of power and blood. She, who radiates innocence and purity yet is ripped away from it by her very own bloodline.

And the thought of Kagura, who is the epitome of everything Sougo isn't, falling to where he stands, stooping to his level-

It makes him panic.

Sougo remains quiet and waits for her to continue, like he knows she eventually will. There is feigned nonchalance belying his worry, but at this point he isn't sure if he cares about the intricate Façade he so meticulously carves out anymore.

"I promised myself I wasn't going to lose to my Yato instincts. That I'll use _my _strength to protect Gin-chan and Shinpachi and everyone else..." Kagura trails off, and Sougo wants nothing more than to wipe the furrowed brows and tightly shut eyes off her delicate features. Her voice is hoarse from the fever and raises barely above a whisper, but he still manages to catch the self-incrimination.

There is anger and shame in her eyes as she instinctively reaches to her torso, fingers twitching as they hover above her chest and stomach. Sougo's eyes widen in alarm.

"Oi, what are you-"

Before he can react, Kagura is clawing at her bandages, broken nails that break skin drawing forth a lazy stain of crimson. Her mouth forms incoherent curses as everything crumbles, and he can only watch in horror as she breaks before his very eyes.

Fortunately, whatever awe-struck deity that he succumbs to in that moment flees, and Sougo is himself again to stop Kagura's rampage.

She releases a croaky, albeit shocked protest when he harshly yanks her wrists away (he ignores the prominent veins he feels beneath his fingers and the thought of how just one snap could break the fragile bones there). The force of his pull brings her forward, where she rests heavily on her elbows. She keeps her eyes downcast and avoids the stare he pins her down with.

Sougo is angry.

At Kagura, at her Yato bloodline, at himself. He can't help but grimace at how utterly _frail _she looks, yet he wants to yell and scream at her for how hurting herself is so absolutely _foolish. _He is at a loss for what to do, and briefly wonders what her Yorozuya boss and that Glasses friend would say. He only sighs as his mood worsens with the inquiry.

_'Danna is Danna, and Glasses is Glasses. I doubt China will take my words to heart just like that,' _Sougo realizes. But he is quickly running out of options and patience, and Kagura is only drowning further and further away from him. At this point, she stops responding, only lays there with her clenched fists and downcast eyes. Her breathing is ragged and coming out in raw, unbridled gasps for air.

Sougo hates it.

"China." She doesn't reply. He is reminded of the few days prior, when only a desperate call for Kagura was the only thing that managed to quench her thirst for blood. His gaze on her intensifies, for he knows that she will eventually look up, will eventually look at _him. _

Sougo knows there isn't a need for fervent cries and extraneous force because the girl in front of him is no longer the monster on the battlefield, is just Kagura and only Kagura.

But he knows she is drowning.

And he will save her.

He takes hold of her closed fists and pries her fingers apart, one by one. She doesn't resist, and he notes with slight relief that her breathing starts to even. When Kagura is deemed responsive enough, he gently lifts her by the shoulder until she is lightly resting on her knees. Her eyes are half-lidded, and fills with something akin to an amalgamation of remorse and a bitter resignation.

Sougo grabs hold of her shoulders (he wants to shake her until the ration and sense comes back to her), a simmering anger in his usually impassive eyes. Crimson irises light ablaze to reflect and bounce against dull, blue ones (ones that are usually so bright and brilliant and fierce).

"China. You're strong."

"Too strong-"

Sougo flicks Kagura on the nose. He interrupts her as he guides his hands down to her opening wounds. Blood stains are seeping through the bandages, but she doesn't show any sign of acknowledging them. He clicks his tongue in annoyance.

"Listen to me for once, China. You. Are. Strong." Sougo watches Kagura's eyes skirt to the adjacent wall, so filled with doubt and self-undermining that he just wants to grab her by the back of her head and force her to look at him, to distract herself, _anything _as long as those eyes are rid of the hate and remorse. (He is irritated, so, so very irritated).

Sougo adds as an afterthought, "You wouldn't have the honor of being my rival if you weren't." Kagura's lips twitch downward at his comment, and she _almost _turns to look at him. There is a twinge of defiance in her action, and he feels his words start to pierce through as much as she does.

Sougo reaches for the emergency kit near him and motions for Kagura to lift her shirt. It is obvious she is skeptical, but when his eyes harden and his lips tighten into thin lines, she reluctantly complies. He starts to gently unwrap the bandages from around her stomach.

"That Yato show you put on was impressive," he continues. Her eyes narrow out of the peripheral of his vision and this time, the anger that bottles inside her directs to him. He feels somewhat of a sense of relief; he no longer has to see a girl as altruistic and brazen and _strong _(although he would never admit it aloud, not even if Hijikata stops inhaling his cancer sticks and Kondou stops growing his abnormal ass hairs) as Kagura succumb to her own fears- to lose a battle with the very same demons she tries to fight.

(And if she is ever to lose, it will be by his hands, and his hands only.)

"You think that _thing _was impressive? Bastard Sadist, why the hell are you even here?" There is outrage in her cerulean eyes, mixing in with a vestige of disbelief and- Is it betrayal he sees in them?

Sougo ignores Kagura's demand, and ignores the way her voice cracks near the end- as if just trying to manage a conversation with her emotions worn on her sleeves and nightmares still fresh in her mind is enough to swallow her whole.

He gently peels the bandages off the dried blood that clots to the expanse of Kagura's stomach. She flinches, but whether it's from the sting or something else, he doesn't care to take a guess. He shrugs and says, "No, I thought _you_ were impressive. But yes, you _are_ a thing, a monster in a little girl mask. I was right all along, thanks for admitting it."

The shock is evident in Kagura's eyes (along with that familiar spark of anger at his remarks- one he indubitably prefers over the empty stares and clenched fists), and he can see the gears turning in her head as she realizes what he means by that.

Honestly, however, Sougo feels unsatisfied, and notwithstanding his signature aloofness, a tidbit offended. Of course, this is the oblivious and naive Kagura he's talking about here, so it's to be expected (not wholly welcome, however). He wants to scold and curse at her for ever thinking that he isn't even remotely accommodating, that he isn't capable, that he doesn't want to understand- because he does. Just as much as that Yorozuya family or that lunatic father of her's; he understands.

Yet at the same time, Sougo can't deny that he wants nothing more than to hold her tightly by the shoulders and keep her in place, as if she is to vanish into thin air at any given moment.

"You won in the end, right? You, an arrogant, vain, selfish brat, against a fully-powered Yato able to take on an entire battalion. Even I think that deserves some merit, China," he merely says.

"An entire battalion... huh?" Kagura reiterates. Her lips curve into what can only be a bittersweet, wholly sardonic smile. His mask of nonchalance nearly breaks when he realizes he had mentioned the mayhem and chaos she had subconsciously created in her rage, and internally cringes at having brought it up.

"Tell me, Sadist..." Sougo has a feeling he isn't going to like what Kagura will ask.

"How many lives did I take?"

Something pierces his chest and punches him in the gut just watching those cerulean hues burn alight with a knowing, horror-stricken grief as they gleam a brilliant, sorrowful blue.

It feels wrong. So incredibly wrong.

And Sougo's hesitance is all the answer Kagura needs.

He wants to reprimand himself so bad when she digs her nails into her palms and her lips quiver. She is trying so, so hard to hold back when Sougo wants nothing more but for the guilt and _hatred _in her eyes to disappear, and that churning feeling in his gut to vanish along with it.

(For once, his sadistic nature is of no use as he sits there, helpless.)

But if there is anything he can do, nothing comes to mind at the moment as he draws a blank. Instead, slightly unsteady hands continue to replace Kagura's bandages, along with the buried hope that the flimsy gauze will be able to heal what the injuries beneath entail. She seems to calm the slightest at his touch (maybe it is him at an utter loss of what to do under the guise of a professional indifference that eases her).

A sense of relief washes over Sougo because even if for a moment, if Kagura can find _some _solace in his presence, then by hell, she can bask in it to her heart's content.

"... Sorry." She suddenly says. The word grates against his ears like brittle nails across rough asphalt.

"For what? My men are alive, Danna and Glasses are recovering. China, it's weird hearing you apologize," Sougo states matter-of-factly. Even that, however, belies the immediate spike of cautious worry he starts to feel at her despondent apology-

As if Kagura, the very same Kagura who boasts of her finesse and strength, is doubting herself.

He doesn't want that.

Where will their physical fights and verbal bickering go if that were to happen? Where will their silent understanding and discreet communication go? Where will that fire in her passionate eyes, able to elicit a reaction in even the most unnerved of men be?

Sougo quickly secures the bandages he wraps around Kagura, ignoring her slight wince at the tightness but readjusting them nonetheless. Her gaze rests on the top of his head, which hangs lowly near her stomach. His eyes are hidden, expression unreadable as he withdraws from her side and onto his knees.

Kagura momentarily panics when he scoots back and gets on his knee, mere seconds from standing up and walking away. Her own rival, leaving just like that. A part of her can't accept that; a part of her wants to scream and yell and challenge him, to taunt and goad him until he has no choice but to stay. Yet the more selfless, grounded voice in her wants to relent and let him leave and walk away from this pathetic side she's showing.

Kagura has to bite her lip to stop herself from trembling when a single thought enters her mind.

_'Weak.'_

Sougo sees this immediately, sees the sudden revelation in Kagura's eyes, sees the way she is on the brink of collapse. It pains him dearly, and in that small window of chance, he throws caution to the wind to take her in his arms. Kagura's eyes widen in surprise.

"You're strong." Sougo hoarsely whispers. "Kagura, you are _strong._"

Kagura feels his nails scrape against her back as he rumples the fabric in his tight clutch. There is a desperate, raw edge to his voice as he grounds her in place with a mere four words- a reminder of herself, of what she is.

Determined, unrelenting, powerful.

"Geez. Don't give up too easily on me now, China," Sougo says jokingly, but there is a shakiness to the intonation of his words that Kagura can't pinpoint. "As your rival, it'd be troublesome for me to deal with the aftermath." His grip tightens as he pushes the back of her head to rest against the crook of his shoulder.

"What's a few more Yato to beat, anyways? In fact, you're pretty lucky. Your dear, sweet archenemy is missing out on all the fun here, y'know?" His warmth, scent, even his voice is overwhelming her as she revels in the meaning of his words.

"I believe you're capable of defeating your enemies. Shouldn't you do too?"

And he completely means it.

"You didn't break any promise here, China. Not to your friends, or me, or yourself. You didn't succumb to that Yato within you in the end, which is an impressive feat in itself. I'd say, you're just one step closer to fulfilling it, wouldn't you agree? The strength to fight and protect is only claimed through pain and suffering, more so the ability to overcome all of that. I had to learn that the hard way, and you do too, China."

A tense silence passes, in which Sougo's words sink in. They chime harmoniously within the discordant cacophony of Kagura's thoughts as the solace in which she is deprave of slowly burns away the darkness of her fears. She relaxes, and strips away the mask that is holding her up- the very mask that moments ago was the cause of her guilt and shame and everything in between. She realizes he is right, so incredibly right.

Kagura nods once, twice, three times.

Sougo's embrace tightens immensely as he practically crushes her smaller frame to his own, back hunching and fingers tangling themselves in her hair and the fabric of her shirt. His voice is raw when he speaks. "So _please. _Don't call yourself weak, Kagura."

Kagura's voice is muffled against his uniform and barely coherent due to the raspy breaths she takes and the uncontrollable sobs as tears leak out of the corner of her eyes, but Sougo understands nevertheless. He only holds on tighter when she wraps her arms around the small of his back and lets out a shaky whimper.

"I'm... strong?"

"Ah. You are."

"I'm... _strong._"

"..."

"Thank you, Sougo."

* * *

Pheeew, it's been a while since my last chapter/fic, huh? I hope you all enjoyed this one-shot, and I apologize for any mistakes (trust me, there are always some no matter how much I try to edit it). But either way, I hope it didn't deter from the story and your enjoyment.

Just general procrastination and some minor writer's block has kept me from posting anything fic-related for almost three weeks now (which isn't actually that long, now that I think about it). I'm starting to get a feel for writing one-shots again, OkiKagu in particular, and it really warmed up my writing muscles. Do those exist?

Anyways, I'm putting Enchanted Wonders on a hiatus for now, and it might be a while before I haul my ass to get back to finishing it, and I'll try to hold it off for as little as possible. I've started to lose passion for it, which I think is every writer's worst nightmare, because all these other ideas just keep flooding to me and I just want to write all of it down, so I hope you guys will understand.

Or maybe, I could just multitask like any other competent human being.

Anyways, that was a really long explanation, and I am terribly sorry if I have upset your eyes (not really, who actually reads my author note?). BUT I'M BACK BISHES, AND I LOVE YOU ALL

Okay, I'm slightly delirious right now from lack of sleep.

Until next fic!


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